Chapter 18: Faceless God Studio |
Upon accepting Ming Po's wish, the chip emitted a faint, crimson halo. In this state, it felt even more fragile than he had imagined—snapping with a light bite, just like a wafer biscuit.
The next moment, brilliant red flames burst from his mouth.
An invisible ripple rapidly spread outward, and the surrounding black-and-white world instantly regained its bright, dazzling colors.
Sounds abruptly sharpened, as if he had just taken off noise-canceling headphones. At the same time, his sense of smell returned—the bathroom reeked of a slightly pungent, orange-scented cleaner, making the sharp-nosed Ming Po feel a little uncomfortable.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it with his fingerprint.
He opened Google and searched for TWKAN.
In an instant, an endless stream of notifications chimed wildly, causing the phone to lag. Ming Po didn't bother checking them, simply muting all the alerts.
But what made him far more anxious and unsettled was the realization that this familiar world was gradually slipping beyond his recognition.
He walked out of the bathroom and looked at the people sitting at their workstations.
Whether it was the layout of the desks or the decoration of the room, nothing matched the Faceless God Studio in his memory. The computers and office chairs looked far shabbier. The walls were plastered with 2D anime girl character designs he had absolutely no recollection of, and the employees' attitude toward their work was a mix of helpless resignation and half-hearted effort. It looked exactly like a third-rate mobile game company that hadn't even secured a publishing license yet.
Seeing Ming Po walk in, a few people merely glanced at him without reacting. Only a young, bespectacled girl sitting near the door nibbling on a piece of bread suddenly lit up, staring at him for several seconds.
Taking the opportunity, Ming Po walked over and asked politely, "Excuse me, has Faceless God Studio moved?"
"...Handsome, you're in the wrong place, right?"
Her tone was hesitant. "This is Building C1."
We were also in Building C1.
Ming Po felt a bit lost.
"When did your company..."
Ming Po glanced at the unfamiliar company name and the cat-head logo on the wall before asking, "...move in?"
"We've always been here?"
The girl seemed even more confused than Ming Po, as if his questioning had shaken her confidence. "We've been here for at least six years... Ah, right, we used to be 'Stinky Cat Studio'. Did you not recognize us because of the name change? Hahahaha..."
'A name I've never heard of in my life,' Ming Po thought.
But to rent an office in a prime location like this for six years meant that even if they were losing money, it couldn't be by much.
At this thought, a terrifying idea surfaced in his mind.
"Have you ever heard of a game called Ouroboros Ring?"
"Doesn't ring a bell..."
"It's an MMO, quite popular. It should have been around for many years."
"I'm not really sure... I play Jianwang 3 and FFXIV, and I've never heard of it. Is it on a foreign server?"
"Maybe I misremembered the name..."
Ming Po shook his head and prepared to leave.
The girl stood up and chased after him for a couple of steps. "Hey, handsome—can I add your WeChat? If I hear anything about it, I can let you know."
"Sure, scan my QR code."
Ming Po offered a fake smile, opened WeChat on his phone, and casually accepted the friend request from the girl whose name he hadn't even asked.
He walked away quickly, searching the internet while waiting for the elevator.
Just as he expected.
He couldn't find a single trace of the name "Faceless God Studio," let alone Ouroboros Ring. Yet he had clearly seen posters and merchandise for the game in his own home...
'...Could it be because of the Time Chips? Did someone change history and erase it?'
Ming Po frowned deeply as he rapidly sifted through information.
He first looked up the past works of Faceless God Studio and found that they had all vanished. He then quickly searched for the names of some close colleagues, only to find they had also disappeared. But with their talent... even if they had left the industry, they should have made a name for themselves.
"The year 2026..."
He murmured softly.
Ming Po's memory was like a hotel with an "infinite" number of rooms. Because the number was infinite, he didn't know the room number of the very last room; similarly, he didn't know what his last memory was.
Whenever he saw familiar things, he could recall the corresponding memories. But he couldn't actively conjure up his final memories out of thin air, meaning he didn't even know what year he had died.
But he was certain it was before 2026.
He checked Lawyer Chen's name again and found that he was unexpectedly famous.
"Two million followers??"
He was shocked the moment he opened the Music Note platform.
Two million followers on a single platform... that was no small number. Yet Ming Po had absolutely no memory of his existence and hadn't even heard of him.
Similarly, Ming Po also discovered the identity of that "Fish."
The spoof videos of him on Bilibili alone had up to eight million views. But he had no memory of that either...
'...If I hadn't just seen the familiar neighbor kid, I'd seriously suspect I crossed over into a very similar but entirely different modern parallel world.'
Thinking this, he opened his messaging app to look for his former colleagues.
Scanning the massive pile of concerned, anxious, and confused messages, Ming Po confirmed that in this world, or this worldline, he had only been "missing" for exactly seven days.
Fortunately, despite only being out of touch for seven days, many people had tried to reach him.
Unfortunately, out of all the people messaging him, he didn't recognize half of them.
Ming Po picked out a few who didn't seem like close friends in real life and sent them dismissive replies like, "I'm fine, just been a bit busy lately." Then, he quickly scrolled through his chat history to gather information.
"...Just what the hell is going on," Ming Po muttered under his breath.
The good mood brought about by returning "home" gradually dissipated beneath his rising anxiety.
His aura once again became unsettling, to the point where even random passersby instinctively avoided him.
Right then, Ming Po suddenly spotted a familiar face.
It was none other than Ai Shiping!
He was uncharacteristically wearing a suit and tie.
In that instant, Ming Po suddenly recalled an extremely precise coordinate in time—
In his memory, he had introduced Ai Shiping to this job a long time ago. The other man had been interested and planned to work as a copywriter, but the boss had decided to hire him for HR instead.
And in Ming Po's memory, there was no recollection of Ai Shiping succeeding or failing the interview.
So the point in time when he died must have been in the window between the boss deciding to hire Ai Shiping and him actually going for the interview.
But then, Ming Po's brow furrowed.
He saw Ai Shiping looking at his phone, replying to messages, his walking pace slowing down significantly. He wobbled along the zebra crossing and eventually stopped entirely, using both hands to focus on typing.
Seeing this made Ming Po's blood boil.
"Don't play on your phone while walking, you idiot!" he shouted loudly.
Hearing Ming Po's voice, the other man froze and looked up in astonishment.
The moment he saw Ming Po clearly, he stood absolutely still, wearing a look of sheer, ghost-seeing disbelief.
Right at that moment, a massive dump truck rushed out of nowhere, slamming directly into Ai Shiping as he stood on the pedestrian crossing and sending him flying!
The violent sound of the impact caused other pedestrians to scream.
Cars slammed on their brakes; people sprinted over. A crowd soon gathered from a distance... but the large truck vanished without a trace.
It wasn't a simple hit-and-run.
It literally vanished into thin air.
Ming Po had seen it clearly—it appeared out of nowhere a split second before hitting him, and disappeared into nothingness right after. Though he didn't know how it was done, it was obviously a supernatural force.
"...Is it the Time Chips?" Ming Po whispered. "Is it... you guys?"
Unlike the others, Ming Po didn't go over to watch, nor did he call for an ambulance.
Instead, he slowly pulled out his last Hour's Red Copper from his sleeve.
His face darkened completely, and a disturbing smile gradually crept onto his lips.
He pinched the chip between his right middle finger and thumb.
Ming Po parted his lips and commanded almost soundlessly:
"Take me back to [One Hour] ago."
With a snap of his fingers, a searing burst of fire exploded from between them with a loud pop.
The next moment, the flames spread madly, engulfing the entire world within his field of vision.
As if melted by the fire, the surrounding world curled, yellowed, and rapidly dissolved.
A dim yellow hue blanketed everything; the people passing by became blurred, their movements growing faster and faster, darker and darker...
When the light returned, Ming Po found himself back in his own room.
He glanced at the countdown on the wall.
—167:14:40.
—167:14:39.
Less than an hour had passed; the timeline matched up.
'...Does the countdown on this thing stay unaffected even if I go back in time?'
That wasn't too bad; it served as a coordinate.
Ming Po stood up without a second thought, planning to go find Ai Shiping.
At the very least, he had to stop him from going out today. Ming Po didn't have many friends, and he couldn't let that guy get dragged into the mess he had stirred up.
"It seems..."
His gloomy voice was filled with murderous intent. "...someone is courting death."